Ritual
by Kiryume
Summary: The village needs to appease its god. (AU, platonic AsuYuu, mentions of weird illnesses and human sacrifice).


The bells glisten in a steady rhythm in the four corners of the room, solemnly marking Yuuma's steps as he walks towards the altar. _One, two, three, four_. Keep the pace, don't let it flatter, and always look forward; those were his instructions. The ones he's been practicing on a daily basis for five years, all for this day.

He's nervous, it's normal. The entire village has their eyes set on him. _You're so crucial to us, Yuuma. Don't let us down._

_I won't._

He doesn't want to disappoint them despite his fear and uncertainties. He uses all his might not to stop walking and only comes to a halt in front of the tall crystal statue gazing down upon him as if waiting. _It's fine, it will be quick._

The priest comes behind him and begins to discard his robes still following the sound of the bells. It doesn't feel quick, in fact it's dragging on way too painfully. But Yuuma has trust and smiles at their god. Everything mutes around him – the bells, the priest's ominous chants, even his own heartbeat – and Yuuma closes his eyes when one single sentence reaches his ears.

_"Sacrifice the lamb."_

* * *

"Why must I do this, papa?"

"Someday you'll understand. Now go out and play son, mom and dad are busy this morning. You did well."

Yuuma smiles and runs out the door, springing into the fields. He is glad to leave the temple already, morning practice is always tiring. They never explained to him any of it. All he knows is that he has to walk every day back and forth to the empty altar as straight as possible, allow the creepy old priest to undress him and get oil baths every five hours to _keep his skin pure_; or so he's heard his mother say.

_Bo-ring. _He sits on a rock and closes his eyes to simply enjoy the breeze. They never let him play with other children, or talk to anyone unless he's allowed to. Yuuma is alone, and has never tasted childhood as it should be. Despite that, he still looks fondly at the children his age playing down the hill.

He's not jealous of their games. No, quite the contrary. Yuuma rejoices in it and seeing others so full of bliss and good is all he needs to be happy himself. Not that he needs their company not to feel alone either, because he has his family and he also has—

"Morning, Yuuma."

_Astral._ The translucent spirit floats at his side with his usual unreadable expression, but Yuuma can always sense the warmth whenever he talks. Astral is strange. A spirit because he's untouchable, but he doesn't appear to be a human ghost either. He's entirely white with sky colored tinges and an aura of equal hue around him, and his eyes are of different color as well. One golden, the other white, but both filled with wisdom and care.

Astral has always been by his side since the day Yuuma was born. The first thing he saw wasn't his mother's tear-filled face nor his father's worry; it was Astral talking to him and welcoming Yuuma into the world. _The human who can see me_. A weird nickname until Astral began to use his name, but Yuuma never minded it. It is true. He is the only one who can see Astral, and in a way Astral is the only one who can see Yuuma as who he is.

Astral teaches him about the world when his parents are too busy for him, and Yuuma teaches Astral about his daily discoveries. They exchange information, stories and legends; Yuuma didn't take long to realize that Astral is for him what is called a _friend_. He can't imagine any day without him.

"Morning, Astral! Took your time today." Yuuma presses his lips in a pout as a greeting and turns entirely away from Astral. He pretends to be offended and Astral says some bad joke, that's their game. But it doesn't come.

Yuuma moves his head to look in Astral's direction and finds him staring intensely at the sun. The atmosphere around him feels heavier than usual. "Astral, what's wrong?"

"Forgive me." The soft words are carried away by the wind and Yuuma doesn't hear him. There's only silence between them when Yuuma lets his hand hover into Astral's, emulating a handhold. It's all they have.

_I'm sorry, Yuuma._

* * *

Another scream of pain. Yuuma covers his ears hidden under the covers of his bed to try mute them out but it's impossible. Right next to their house is the doctor's place and there must be at least ten people only there giving in to the sufferings of the illness.

The whole village is suffering. No one knows where it's come from but the dark plague is eating everyone, turning their skin blue and causing them both illnesses of the mind and body. Except Yuuma, who is safe. He's been in contact with more than one ill person and yet he is healthy. They call for him at night sometimes and ask him to come out of his room. _We need you._

He's afraid. What the priest has been predicting and preparing him for is there and now they want him to walk the path to the altar again, but for good. He's fourteen now and he knows the destiny that awaits for him. It isn't easy to accept. Not when it won't solve anything, not when he's sure it's clearly not the fault of who they're blaming for it.

There's an attempt of a touch on his shoulder and Yuuma pops his head out from under she sheet. Astral's eyes greet his and Yuuma relaxes, though for once it isn't the calming presence he used to be.

"…" Yuuma swallows thick air and says nothing. He knows what Astral wants to suggest, but he won't listen.

"Yuuma, you have to leave, tomorrow is the—"

"I know."

"Then why aren't you out already? You know it won't solve anything, what they're about to do won't change a thing since—"

"Since you're not the one at fault, I told you, I know." Yuuma shushes him with a smile and sits up in bed, leaning against the wall so he can look at Astral in the eye. "They think it is though, and if I must to this to bring everyone else happiness, I will."

"They will perish nonetheless, I didn't cause this illness."

"I don't blame you, but this has been my future from the start."

"Yuuma…" Astral sits next to him on the bed and concentrates some of his energy to materialize his hand and take Yuuma's. He's stubborn and there's no way to convince him out of it, but at least they still have each other as always.

"I'll be by your side, Yuuma."

"I trust you."

And that night Yuuma finds rest and protection in Astral's arms until he runs out of energy and has to leave replenish it – he doesn't let that happen until Yuuma is sound asleep.

* * *

_"Sacrifice the lamb and please the god_._"_

The oil is spread all over Yuuma's back and they let him place his hands on the altar for support. It's cold and slick and uncomfortable but he stands it because it won't take much longer. The moment the hands leave his back he knows he doesn't have more than a minute left. The priest accidentally knocks over the tray as he takes the sharpened bone from it.

_"Please the god and end the curse."_

_I'm here for you, Yuuma. Look at me._

Yuuma does it, he looks at the statue which reflects Astral's figure but misses his kindness. Even so he can still feel it. The love and friendship it welcomes him with. _It will be over soon._

And it is. Yuuma doesn't have time to feel because Astral waiting for him is all that matters.

* * *

Humanity is sad. Yuuma shakes his head and interrupts the visions in the mirror they use to look at the world, tired of witnessing another war. Hundreds of years and yet no single change.

The bed where he heads to isn't empty and he lies down at Astral's side, who's been peacefully sleeping for some days now. Yuuma kisses his cheek and settles next to him with a brief snuggle. It doesn't matter anymore – he has Astral, and Astral has him, and their friendship would last longer than anything.

_It's a never ending happiness. _


End file.
